AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Good.” Adrian sounded slightly surprised but mostly pleased.
“Why do you ask?”
“We’ve had a few people quit after a month or so. Turned out the mountains were too remote for them after all.”
Of course, yes—it figured that with the busiest stretch of the year just around the corner, Adrian wouldn’t want to lose Eric’s part-time help, much less Kojo’s essential skills. Nothing personal.
“I like it here,” Eric told Adrian. “Kojo does, too.”
“Good,” Adrian repeated.
They passed a farm, its windows bright rectangles in the night. Eric slid a little lower in his seat, comfortably warm now, and told himself that Adrian asking him along didn’t mean anything. Just a couple of lads hanging out.
“You know,” Adrian said into that thought, “if you ever want to borrow this car for a trip to Zurich, just let me know.” There was a tilt to Adrian’s tone that Eric couldn’t quite read, like there was more to the offer than what met the eye.
Eric shook his head. “I honestly don’t miss the city.”
“Oh.” Adrian was quiet for a second. “So why live in London?”
It was a fair question.
“I studied there, and afterwards, it made sense to stay. There’s a thriving music scene, obviously, so it was a good place to build my career, try to meet the right people.”
“So aren’t you missing out by being here?”
“I’m fine.” Since that might betray that Eric was about a dozen Top 10 hits past the career-building stage, he quickly added, “Things tend to slow down in winter.”
That was a load of rubbish, of course. A year ago, Eric’s December would have been packed with Christmas parties and charity soireesbecause networking had still been essential. Then he’d turned his heartbroken anger into an award-winning album and scored two hit songs on Max’s fourth record. Honestly, Eric had expected Max to bin the songs they’d written together before their friendship had tanked. So he’d been surprised when, a couple of months after Lucas had walked out on him, Eric had received a text from Max.
‘I want to put our songs on my album. Fine with you?’
‘Okay,’had been the extent of Eric’s first response. After a minute, he’d added,‘Thanks.’
At the time, getting credit on Max’s album had meant a lot—it was before the Grammy Award, before Eric could pick and choose who he worked with. It didn’t mean that all was forgiven and forgotten, though. Because, fuck, Max could have simply pulled Eric aside and asked him to stay away, or Lucas could have shaken Eric’s hand, smiled, and said,‘Hey, I’m about to screw you over—cool?’But they hadn’t.
Still, Eric could appreciate that it must have been no walk in the park for Max either to see the love of his life with someone else. At least that’s what Eric gathered from Max’s recent songs.
Jesus, what a mess they’d made.
“What’s it like?” Adrian asked, and Eric needed a moment to remember the context.
“London?”
“Music industry parties.” Adrian’s grin sparked. “Do you get to rub elbows with the rich and famous?”
Eric lifted a shoulder and looked away. “They’re just parties. You grab a drink and do your best to look like you belong.”
“There’s a song about that by the British guy, isn’t there? Those teenagers played it—the ones who got drunk in our gondola, first time we went skiing together.”
The British guy.
Eric bit his cheek to stifle a grin. Bless Adrian’s refreshing lack of interest in staying on top of the hottest trends.
“You meanCocktail Camouflage? ‘Your insecurities in a neon dream, spotlight on my flaws’?” While not the first song Eric had co-written with Max, the fast-paced beat at odds with the despondent lyrics, it was the first that had made it to single status and subsequent number one.
“That’s the one.” Adrian hummed a few off-key bars.
“Don’t quit your day job,” Eric advised, and Adrian laughed, warm and easy.
